She stepped away from Faith her arms wrapped around her body in a protective embrace. It brought her no comfort.
They had asked for her to leave, all of them, because she was reckless and dangerous and thought nothing for the lives of those around her.
They of course were wrong.
Every pain they felt, every injury upon their bodies cut deep into her as if the wounds were reflected in her. A mirror image of their cuts and bruises on the inside of her heart.
Every death a stabbing sensation in her soul.
Not to gentle words telling her that she was no longer welcome. That she had no role with them any longer.
And where exactly did that leave her?
She walked along aimlessly passing through the abandoned neighborhoods of Sunnydale the stillness of the night muffling the sounds of her steps. The lack of light letting the darkness in all that much more, the cold to settle into her bones.
The plain fatigue to rest into her already weary soul.
How many years had she come and fought and struggled all without rest?
Well except for those one hundred and forty-seven days.
Battle after battle each war won with strength and determination and friends.
Friends that doubted her now.
That no longer trusted her.
Exactly where was the line drawn? When in her life had she passed it? Did she just sail on blindly not knowing that the mythical barrier had been crossed that she had gone to far?
Or had they suddenly changed the rules?
It didn't matter. Not right now and probably not in the future. No longer welcome in her own home.
A strange thought. As true as any other.
The one feeling that she would allow in began to make demands on a body that had survived too many fights but kept trying anyway.
She was the definition of tired.
A place to sleep would be good and if she had been able to process thoughts in a logical fashion she would have grabbed her purse before she left the house. At least she could have used some money to get a room at that dump of a motel near the freeway.
Easier said then done in the face of utter betrayal.
Words that stung and slashed making sure she would be only a bloody stump in front of them before she was turned to the door.
Had they planned it that way?
A great big Buffy intervention on the power of the Slayer going to her head? Not a far-fetched idea considering the company she kept.
She paused on the step of a porch, the house in front of her dark and silent and strange.
What wasn't strange these days?
She opened the door and found no one inside. Most of the sane people had left days ago. It was the ones like her that stuck around.
Her steps continued her feet going toward a destination that she need not acknowledge.
There a bed large with blankets.
A place to sleep.
To forget.
If only for a short time.
She slipped under the covers. Resting her head on the pillow she pushed all of her feelings aside. Buried them deep within the fortress of walls she had built around her heart.
The place where she dare not let anyone.
Because there were too many times like these.
The grip of sleep was not far from coming to someone who was drained. Drained of everything that made her.
Sleep.
*************
Voices echoed around her tugging insistently at her consciousness refusing the veil that her sleep provided.
Back into the world.
Back to the pain.
Eyes open now, ears picking up the sound of encroaching footsteps bouncing off the walls of a crowded place.
She was up now on her feet the tingling she felt racing adrenalin through her body.
Vampires.
More than one. More than what she could handle trapped in a room this size.
Ten.
Her eyes darted around as they all stepped into the room all but one showing his true face.
The face of a demon.
The feel of the stake in her hand was as familiar as the sound of her name. A weight she knew well and had wielded with authority for the last seven years. The only thing that never left her.
Her calling.
There were no quips no snide barbs with those members of the undead.
Only the fight.
For a time she felt nothing as movements she had made in the past returned to be used again. Blows that were traded and delivered the thrusting of a stake the explosion of dust.
Common occurrences.
Three were dust seven stood and judged the Slayer.
For once they were agreed and instead of the greedy nature of the demons inside them they moved together to bring down the single threat.
She was pinned now to the bed held by hands that had the strength required to contain only parts of the Slayers abilities. Enough of them to ensure she would not and could not move.
The other, the one who remained stared at her with a hungry gleam in his eyes that she had witnessed before. A look she had tried valiantly to forget.
One that haunted nightmares.
Her eyes didn't leave him as she still tried to struggle. Token movements in the face of his utter win.
He was even with where her head lay, only then did his face shift and she stared into glowing amber eyes.
The look of death.
She would not beg. Not give them the satisfaction that the reaction would give them. Would even fight the fear she felt to keep it from scenting the air to heighten their enjoyment.
Knew too many facts to give in to them. Given to her by another vampire once in the hope that he would be at this point then a hope that a day like this would not come.
The pain of fangs slicing into tender flesh caused her to bite her bottom lip. An effort not to cry out. Denying them one more thing.
She felt the tugging of her life through the holes in her neck each pull on her blood sealing a fate that could not be changed. Her breathing slowed the rapid rate of her pulse dropping moving sluggishly against the demands of a brain that was still conscious.
She was too weak to move now even with Slayer strength the fight draining from her body like her blood.
The sound of their laughter hung in the air around her the taunting tone of it as they gloated in a victory of the killer of their kind. It was their right.
Shallow breaths came from her chest each pulled with more and more difficulty.
Pressure at her jaw and she was aware of what they wanted.
She would refuse that too.
But they would not let such a thing go and the pressure grew in force until the tendons there screamed and her mouth was forced open.
Wet and sticky it made its way between lips that were pried apart. The urge to swallow was also fought against but again she was denied that rebellion.
A continuous stream of fluid was forced into her, sliding down her throat as tears pricked her eyes.
And then there was the dark.
********
He stood outside of the house scenting the air. Here on the changing wind came the soft call of her scent. The distinct smell that screamed to his senses Buffy. He would recognize it anywhere at anytime and follow it gladly to whatever and where ever it led.
Turning sharply on his heal he followed his nose feeling out with his senses trying to pinpoint her location.
Spike was quite aware that he might not be greeted fondly when he did find her. That she would do what she had always done in times where her heart was battered and retreat into the protective shell that had begun to crack in his company.
It had been warming to him that she was relaxing in his presence starting to share a closeness with him that he had always wanted.
Even if he was unworthy of it.
Years ago he had listened to a woman tell him his worth.
The words never rang true until he found his soul.
He was beneath Buffy of this he was certain. His past actions had guaranteed that.
And yet she had told him that she believed in him. That he had become a better man.
He was still a man that housed a demon.
As pretty of a shell he could make it the inner part of him was still there just lurking under the surface.
He had wished for a fleeting moment that he was still without a soul. Longed to be without the guidance her presence had given him through the years.
Just for a moment. Just so he could kill those miserable wankers and cure them of their stupidity permanently.
Yeah it was wrong.
He still wanted it.
It simmered just under the surface of the man they thought they really knew.
Only Buffy did.
Spike walked briskly his boots clunking against the concrete as he made his way through the dark streets. His purpose was calling in every cell of his body to find her.
Bring her home.
Bloody stupid humans fouling up the one chance they all had against an evil unlike any they had faced before.
He had not held back when he spoke of her in the kitchen and the glare in the eyes that watched him shone with acknowledged truth.
She was their best hope.
And while they pretended not to be affected by his words he wasn't an idiot.
Many years ago he had learned that a sharp tongue that delivered unveiled harsh truths could hurt more than any physical wound.
He had wielded it well tonight.
But the feeling of victory that should have come never showed in her absence.
She was all that mattered.
Wasn't she always?
His feet led him to a house that seemed still and peaceful. The only oddity appeared to be the front door. It was standing wide open.
He shook it off and walked in noting that many places were now like this one. Abandoned as all hope fled from people who had built homes and lives here. A place where even a vampire didn't need an invite. It was an odd sensation knowing that most houses in this same neighborhood would be like this. He could walk right in.
In years past this would have been a joy that led to much looting.
Now it was a simple oddity that saddened him a bit.
Unlife was a strange thing.
He had reached the bedroom and noticed that her scent was stronger here. She had stayed for some time. Tilting his head and drawing in a deep breath through his nose he could smell the faint trace of her blood and something else.
The blood of a vampire.
Opening his eyes he could make out the piles of dust thick on an other wise immaculate carpet.
She had been slaying.
But she was gone now. He moved to stand outside the house once more and drew in another breath.
The trail of her scent was muddled here. It was hard to distinguish and this puzzled him quite a bit. It had been so easy before. There a faint trace off on his right.
He followed it the itch in his senses warned him that his time was growing short.
Dawn was approaching. His search would have to wait until later the sun was rising and he had only a few minutes. The pull to sod it all and stay out until he found her was great. But could he do that without turning into a very poor imitation of the human torch before he went poof? It wasn't likely.
Best thing to do was head back and tell the others he hadn't found her.
Bit would probably worry.
The harsher side of his nature argued that it was the least the traitorous bastards deserved.
No he would tell them he hadn't found her and they would do what they always managed to do. Muck up something she would have to save them from.
History had a strange way of repeating itself. He was educated on that fact. The lessons of almost one hundred and fifty years were not to be taken lightly.
With a heavy sigh he turned and headed back to her house.
It was always her.
*********
Her eyes fluttered open to gaze at the world around her. For a time she could only stare blankly as her mind tried to piece together the sights before her and realign them with the memories that were stirring as her body awakened.
She remembered the pain as she was forced out of the house by words from people she considered comrades in arms, friends and family. All spoke with the same message. To leave, let them be in peace.
An unnoticed moan escaped her lips at the thought. She struggled to sit upright and took in the landscape around her until it sunk into her brain. Connecting with recognition.
She was in a cemetary the green grass and tombstones gave that away. The soft sound of a bird chirping came from behind the crypt that was covering her in its soft shade. It was what she refered to as Spike's cemetary the one where he had lived for a large portion of the last few years.
In fact she was only about fifteen yards from the door of said crypt.
Why was she here?
Her mind plowed ahead for more memories that could give her a small clue.
She remembered crawling into a soft bed in a strange house seeking shelter from the misery she had been feeling. It was peaceful until she had been woken by the sound of voices.
Her eyes became wide as she remembered the group of vamps, of being held pinned to the bed, of being drained. And one slow one that tugged at her. The sticky repulsive feel of cold blood as it trickled into her throat.
It couldn't be what she was thinking. She refused to believe it.
Mentally she took stock of herself fingers instinctively going to her throat resting on her pulse point.
Only there was no pulse.
Her skin was cool to the touch the heat that normally warmed chilled fingers missing.
And for the first time she realized that she hadn't drawn a breath in a very long while.
Oh dear God.
It was early yet she could tell by the light the way the shadows fell against the tombstones. She had become familiar with the patterns during the last year as she fled Spike's crypt in the early hours to rush home before she was discovered. It was sometime around six not too far from when the sun had risen.
Which was continually rising and eating away at the shade she was now in.
If her guess was right this was definitely not a good thing.
Or maybe it was. If she was now a vampire, and she cringed to even think the thought, the sun would be a sure escape of that fate. A final if not dusty ending. An ironic one at that. The Slayer dusting herself.
The fear of being the one thing she had fought against had stuck by her for many years. Only to be made a reality now.
Was she ready to just give in?
Or had she already when she had been turned?
That was too deep a thought and she shied away from it.
The real question was whether to stay or to go?
The tug to live suddenly opened itself into an all out scream not to be denied. She did not want the finality of death.
But she couldn't really live any longer either.
Maybe she was just a coward but the thought of waiting for the sun to rise in the air and burst her into flame held no real appeal.
So now she just needed a plan.
She stared straight ahead to the door of Spike's old place and in her mind she wished she had a blanket. There was a definite feeling that this was going to hurt.
Gathering a bit of courage she got to her feet ducking to keep herself in the shade for a moment longer.
Then she made the dash. She ran full out letting her body collide with the door as she felt her skin burn where the light touched her. She could smell the smoke as it wafted off her form.
But she was inside now. A familiar setting in a foriegn time.
She slammed the door shut behind her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the crypt. A darkness that she was now a part of.
Okay she needed to get a grip on her rambling brain. It was time to pull it together. Start acting like the Slayer.
Only she really wasn't anymore.
No. No need to let her thoughts drift in a useless direction. Now was definitely not the time to start brooding.
That brought a smile to her lips. She had been spending too much time with Spike.
First things first. What did she know for certain?
Adding everything up lack of pulse, lack of warmth, no need to breathe and a sudden severe allergy to sunlight confirmed what she already knew.
She had been turned.
So as a newly risen vampire what should she be doing?
With difficulty she cleared her mind and searched for what she knew about vamps.
She should be fighting an irresistable urge to hunt, to feed, overcome with her first bout of bloodlust.
But she wasn't.
The thought pushed a puzzled look to her face her lips settling into a pout. She did feel hungry but it was mild, just an empty feeling in her stomach like if she had a few hours to go before dinner and would like a light snack. Nothing that was too hard to resist.
She wondered what that meant. Having witnessed the rise of many a vampire in the last few years it struck her as very odd.
Thinking she sat on the top of the sarcaphogus crossing her legs in front of her.
Really when she got down to it she didn't feel all that different from the Buffy she had been twelve hours ago.
Letting her curiousity keep her distracted from her other feelings in a grand gesture of denial, she pulled on a memory of meditation Giles had taught her years ago to center herself. Taking a deep breath she let her eyes close and let her thoughts disolve.
There in the center of her being she could feel it. Primal and strong.
Her demon.
In her relaxed state she could puzzle through what it wanted and expected of her. She felt the first stirrings of hurt at the fact that her Sire had dumped her here to die in the sun a sign that he felt her unworthy. Past that was the urge to unleash against anything letting the destructive nature come out. The yen to go out and find prey, to scent it's fear on the wind. Her minds eye played through the pictures it showed her death and blood and gore.
She didn't feel to horrified at the images she found in her mind.
Oh that was kind of disturbing.
Opening her eyes she knew that the denial would only last so long. What was wrong with a little hunting? As long as she had a worthy target.
A wolfish grin spread across her face as she pictured the perfect target.
She never noticed that she had slipped into game face.
***********
Spike spent the morning secluded in the basement away from the piercing voices of too many hormone driven females that ran through the house.
It also kept him away from the blighters that considered themselves her friends.
No one had thought to question him when he arrived shortly before the sun had taken a firm hold of the sky outside. Expectant eyes had rested on him but he walked away down into the basement barely sparing them a glance let alone a word.
He had no desire to speak to any of them.
It was just as well. They seemed to be in the middle of setting about whatever big plan they had come up with the night before.
A battle without her leading the charge.
In his opinion Faith was a poor substitute. Not that any of them would care for his opinion. Like he cared what they thought.
No deep down he knew the only reason he had even returned here was two fold. The chance that she had come back on her own and the fact that it was habit now to return here. Just something he had become accustomed too.
So now he waited because what else could he do?
This day was already going too bloody slow.
Sleep was elusive and there was nothing down in the basement to occupy his thoughts.
Bugger.
He sat chain smoking instead of pacing reclined against the basement wall.
Listening. Waiting.
The sound of the front door banging open wasn't unusual as far as things went in El Casa De Summers lately but the following shouts and moans of pain were. Well during the day that is.
Curious he climbed the stairs to see what the hell was going on.
He made it to the living room just in time to see the Watcher and the Whelp carrying a very unconcious and very hurt Slayer up the stairs. Around him there were numerous potentials on the floor moaning and bleeding on the rug.
Slayer would have a fit about that. Blood was damn hard to get out.
Seeing the thin girl the Bit had found the other night he knelt down beside her as she put pressure on another chit's wounds.
"What happened?"
Her wide eyed stare met his eyes.
"There was a bomb."
He didn't say anything. Must have been a trap. He just nodded at her as the others continued to treat the injured. He straightened and made his way upstairs listening carefully to the murmured voices coming from Buffy's room.
"She going to be okay?" It was Red that asked sounding a bit more like the young teen that he had first threatened.
"I'm unsure Willow. Nothing appears broken but there could be internal injuries." Pompous git.
He couldn't help it he felt his hackles rise everytime he heard the Watcher's voice now. Ever since he tried to help the Principal off him.
He stood in the door way as the three of them looked on Faith's unconcious form.
He couldn't help himself. Not that he really tried.
"So big fight comin' and we're two Slayers down now?" He enjoyed the pained flinch they each gave him.
The Brit didn't turn to face him still intent on the resting woman on the bed.
"I take it that your search for Buffy was fruitless then?"
Spike snorted.
"Yeah found her scent in an abandoned place but she wasn't there." He didn't let the worry he felt about losing her trail enter his voice or his eyes.
Red's eyes seemed to tear up a little before she shook it off.
"It's okay we're fine." Her voice though still held the quiver she fought against.
"Keep tellin' yourself that pet. Maybe someday you'll believe it." He let out a snide chuckle and started to head out of the room.
"Where are you going Spike?"
"No business of yours now is it mate?" He gave the man an icy glare even if it was wasted on the back of his head. "Think I'll just get my stuff together. Come nightfall I'll shove off."
"You're leaving?" That came from the Whelp who at least had the decency to look at him. Even if it was in shock.
He gave him an uninterested shrug.
"No reason for me to stick around now is there?"
"But-" Red interrupted.
"Oh come now let's not kid ourselves here. You want me gone and the only thing keeping me here was the promise I made to a lady who, as I recall, was told to bugger off by the likes of you." He gave each of them a smirk. "Only thing I'm interested in doin' is finding her and helping her take down the First." He turned and took a step before glancing over his shoulder. "So the rest of you can just sod off."
Oh that felt all kinds of good. A guilty pleasure yes but a pleasure still.
It would have been something to savor while he waited for the hours to pass if not for one small problem.
Standing there in the hallway her stance reminding him of her big sis.
"You're just gonna leave?"
For the first time he gave even her an icy glare.
"You see a reason for me to stick around?" The tone he used with her was harsher then she was used to he could see it in her eyes. "Seems to me that I wasn't welcome here in the first place."
"But Buffy-"
"Isn't here. Can't imagine why that is. Care to explain it to me Dawn?" He always called her by name now the endearments that had come so easily before refused since he had returned with his soul.
Yes he knew his words would hurt her. But he couldn't imagine what had been said the night before to turn Buffy out of her own house. And if the Bit hadn't participated Buffy would never have left.
Her eyes were starting to fill with tears and he mentally strengthened his resolve.
"Giles said-"
"What convinced you that it was a good idea to abandon your own sister? She died for you Dawn. This how your going to repay her?"
"I didn't want to. It was supposed to help."
"Right good job it did too." He went to step around her. "Guess I'm not the only one who can hurt Buffy huh?" He barely muttered the words as he passed her not wanting the others to hear.
She flinched away from him hitting the wall in her haste.
He took a couple of steps and then turned back around to her again.
"You know part of being an adult is being able to make your own decisions despite what people say. Guess you have a ways to go yet."
He finally made it down to the solitude of the basement once more.
Down hear in the dark waiting for night to fall one thought going round in his mind.
"Buffy luv where are you?"
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Apparently I have issues with this story line in the show. The second time I've written a fic on this wonder why that is? Hope you are an Angst fan because this ride is extremely bumpy. Please feel free to tell me how evil I am because all reviews are extremely appreciated. Thanks